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Chapter 6

I don't remember what I dreamed last night. All I know is that it had to do with someone I love because I have a sentimental feeling. Sometimes I just want to stay in bed and keep it. Well, I always want to stay in bed, but keeping that feeling is debatable sometimes. I close my eyes and try real hard, yet still fail to remember who that dream involved. I finally give up and reluctantly rise, stumble to the bathroom, and fall into the shower.
~
I look at my circle of friends. Kate, straight across from me, and Lynn sits directly to my left. Anne is diagonally to my right. This is a daily ritual for our seating in first block.
"Today," Ms. Dale announces, "we are going to fry chicken and bake homemade brownies."
I think my tongue starts to water. I just remembered that I skipped breakfast. Lynn announces that she has skipped her breakfast, along with a delightful squeal and a multitude of flaps with her hands. I laugh a little at her weirdness, as if I wasn't doing the same thing mentally.
"Who volunteers to help?"
Kate, Lynn, and I lunge out of our seats toward the group of ingredients perched on the cooking counters. Anne slowly rises from her seat, leaving her gas station breakfast behind to join us. Lynn and Anne work on cracking cocoa and measuring flour while Kate and I beat eggs and spice our flour and bread crumbs.
"How come we always have to do the main foods and never get the desserts?" Kate whines.
"Because we eat the desserts before they're even baked." I reply, cutting the raw chicken into pieces and removing the fat.
"True." Kate laughs, offering me a taste of the breadcrumbs she's spiced. I open my mouth and she dispenses the spiced breadcrumbs.
"Mmm, that's really good! What'd you put in them?"
Kate shrugs. "What she had laid out."
I roll my eyes and glance at the ingredients beside her. It looks like salt, pepper, paprika, and something else that I can't quite tell. It's probably close to the same thing I put in the flour.
I am finally done cutting my chicken breast and toss the strips into the plate of flour with too much accidental force. Flour smokes in a tiny cloud and snows on Ms. Dale's counter. Kate's back is turned to me, so I don't think anyone noticed. I lift the floured chicken strips from the flour plate and dip them into the beaten egg bowl, bathing them in the eggs. Finally, I coat them in Kate's breadcrumbs, and just in time to see her turn around and force her chicken into the flour plate the same way I did, creating the cycle all over again.
I rummage through the cabinets until I find a pan and some coconut oil. Kate sticks her tongue out and crumples her face in disgust until I explain to her my experiences of how delicious this actually is. I scoop out four spoons of the oil into the frying pan and set it on the eye. When Kate has completed the cycle, I sprinkle a drop of water into the oil to check it's state. It crackles and Kate and I immediately start tossing our chicken inside, watching it pop. We glance over at Lynn and Anne, who we can see over the dividers, mixing their brownie mix.
"I want to try some of that." I say.
"Me too." Kate's eyebrows shoot upward.
"Wanna go get some?" she asks.
I grin. "Duh!"
We crouch down behind the counters and make our way past all the enormous cooking tools such as a maximized mixing bowl and beater, a fry cook grill, and a deep fryer. We are finally on their side of the kitchen area. We shoot up from behind the counter, sinking our fingers into the mix. Shouts of "hey!", "get out of here!", and "nasty!" arises from the giggling Lynn and Anne. We laugh as we run back to our station, pretending to dodge them.
"The chicken!" Kate yells.
"It's okay! It hasn't been that long." I say, flipping over each strip with a tong, showing it's perfection.
Our chicken gets done about ten minutes before the brownies are done, giving them time to cool off. Me, Kate, and Lynn retrieve glasses from the cupboard and crack ice into them, then pour sink water into them.
We head back to our table and devour our food, me and Kate impressed with ourselves. We also compliment Lynn and Anne. They have done good, especially for Lynn and Anne.
Ms. Dale passes our food out to everyone in the classroom. I don't really care because I like cooking anyways, but the fact that the people that just sat there, sleeping and whatnot, got to eat the food that we cooked really irked Kate and Lynn. They all but bounce over the table whispering to each other about it.